A Cure For Insomnia
by Wake Up
Summary: It's been a week since Dumbledore died, and Ron can't get any sleep at night. Will a chance encounter with Hermione change anything for him?


**AN: **I don't own any of the Harry Potter world, although I'd like to thank J.K. Rowling for letting me play around with it :)

Ron thumped sleepily down the boys' staircase again, just like he had every night for the past week. It was past midnight, but ever since Dumbledore's death he had been having trouble sleeping.

The first night after his death Ron thought it was just shock. However, he realized very quickly it was much more than that. His journey to the common room well after midnight had become a nightly routine. He was more than shocked. He was _confused._

Every night he went up to bed with the rest of the sixth years, and every night he tried to fall asleep. But he just couldn't. As soon as he closed his eyes his mind was plagued with the image of Dumbledore strewn across the law, dead.

So every night Ron waited until everyone in his dorm fell asleep, and then he tip-toed down to the Common Room. His room was too confining. There wasn't enough space or privacy to think.

Ron often spent hours trying to sort out what happened. He wrestled with grief and anger. But the worst was the confusion. He didn't know how to deal with it. Dumbledore couldn't be gone. They still needed him. You-Know-Who—_Voldemort_—was still around. And great wizards like Dumbledore didn't simply die. They deserved some great feast, where they could go out with a bang. Leave the world on their own terms.

Snape had taken that from Dumbledore, Ron thought, disgust washing over him. Snape had taken everything. He still couldn't believe that it had happened. All along, Snape had been one of them.

Every so often Ron hoped that it had all been a scheme. He expected Dumbledore to jump out and tell them it had all been a hoax. Part of the master plan in order to throw off Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Ron knew this would never happen.

Coming back to reality, Ron pulled open the door leading into the Common Room. He stepped through, and immediately noticed something was different. It took him a moment to figure out what that something was. Sitting on the couch closest to the fire sat Hermione Granger. Apparently he wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep tonight.

Hermione hadn't heard him step into the Common Room, he realized. She was reading a book (most likely dull, long, and about Arithmancy or House Elves) very intently. Ron was rooted in spot. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her as she sat there alone, oblivious to him standing there. Watching her was mesmerizing.

Ron studied as she turned the page, her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes moving back and forth with fury. Her bushy hair was sticking up at awkward angles. She bit her bottom lip in concentration.

She was crazy. She couldn't sleep, so she chose to read. Ron laughed softly as he watched her curl her legs up underneath her, almost catlike. How could she be so insane and so perfect at the same time? When had she gotten so beautiful?

And then, just as Ron tried to answer his own questions, an idea struck him. He snuck deeper into the Common Room, making sure Hermione wouldn't be able to see him out of the corner of her eye. He creeped around the couch until he was directly behind her. He leaned his face right up to her ear and then said, rather loudly, "Up for a bit of late night reading?"

Her response was instantaneous. She yelped, flinging her arms in legs in the air. Her book went flying, and somehow she managed to fall off the couch, landing on the floor with a loud _thunk_.

"Ron!" she cried out, outraged. "You nearly gave me a heart attack. That was _not_ funny!"

Ron saw the glare she was shooting him, but it had just been to damn funny. He stood there laughing as she rubbed her back and muttered something along the lines of "Stupid… _immature_."

Hermione picked herself off the floor, in what Ron supposed was her version of a dignified manner, and reseated herself on the couch. "When are you going to grow up?"

"Never, I suppose," Ron replied, shooting her a winning smile.

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes, but Ron was glad to see that the anger was gone from her eyes. He walked over to the couch and took a seat on the cushion next to her. She looked at him, and then started massaging her back with her hand.

"Does it really hurt?" Ron asked, truly concerned.

Hermione made a face. "Like you care," she said sarcastically.

Ron raised his eyebrows at her, suggesting quite the opposite of what she had implied. He felt a surge of triumph when he saw her blush at this.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Hermione awkwardly massaging her back and Ron watching her amusedly. After a while Ron turned to her and said, "Honestly, if you need a massage you can ask me. What you're doing isn't helping at all."

Hermione lifted her head to look at Ron. She looked shocked. Maybe even a little bit scared. "Er…w-well, okay," she stammered, turning her back to Ron. Ron was surprised at first. He hadn't expected her to say yes, but now that she had he wasn't going to pass up such a great opportunity.

He began to massage her, and he felt her stiffen against him. As he moved his hands along her back he felt very aware of himself. His breath quickened in spite of his efforts to keep it normal. This was just _Hermione. _Why was he so worried?

_Because she's beautiful. Because you want her._ Ron answered himself before he could stop the thoughts from coming. He shuddered.

After a few minutes of massaging Hermione, she relaxed a bit against his hands. He took this as a signal to continue, and feeling daring, he scooted up even closer to her. There was barley and space between them now, and he heard a sharp intake of breath come from Hermione.

He needed to say something—anything—to break this awkward silence between them. "What are you doing awake, anyway?" It was a weak attempt, but his mind was too busy focusing on other things to think of a better question. Touching Hermione seemed to prohibit certain parts of his brain from functioning.

"I couldn't sleep," she replied softly. "And you?"

"The same. There's too much to think about." Ron's hands were getting rather tired now, but he didn't want to end the contact with Hermione. It was necessary to keep touching her.

Just as Ron began wondering what Hermione would do if he pressed himself fully up against her, she turned her head to face him. "You don't have to keep massaging me. It feels better now anyway."

Ron was disappointed that he had to stop, but as he moved his hands away she fell back against him. She fit perfectly against his chest, and this new, more complete contact sent thrills through his body. Hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around Hermione's waste, pulling her a little closer.

Ron heard her sigh, and wondered exactly what she was thinking. He didn't have to wait long for the answer. She started talking, saying the last thing Ron had expected.

"It isn't fair. None of this is _fair._ Not to Harry. Not to us. How could Snape just turn on us?" Hermione hesitated. "How could Dumbledore be dead?" Ron heard her voice shake at the last comment. He was going to try to say something comforting, but she wasn't finished talking. "None of this makes any sense at all. Dumbledore trusted Snape, and Dumbledore was never wrong."

Ron instinctively pulled Hermione closer again and sighed. She had just voiced exactly what he had been thinking for the past week. But he could tell she was not finished, and he wanted her to be able to say everything she needed to.

Hermione took a shaky breath before she continued. "Did you know that Dumbledore was the one who told me I was a witch? He came to my house. It was such a sight, seeing him standing there in my front door in all purple robes. I thought he was a loon at first. But he just smiled at me, with that crooked smile he had, and told me who he was.

"He was so kind. And somehow, he didn't even have to convince me that what he was saying was true. I had no doubt in him. He was just so _honest_. No one could have doubted him.

"He convinced my parents it was true as well. I don't know how he did that. And then he answered all of my questions. I had a lot of questions." She laughed to herself. "And he told me how special I was. He said he was excited to have me come to his school.

"During my first year I would go talk to him too. You know, before I was friends with you and Harry. He always made me feel better. He always told me how important and special I was. And now he's gone. Just like that."

"I can't stop thinking about it. It won't go away. And the worst part is that it just doesn't make any sense." Hermione's last words were hard to decipher now, because she was sobbing so hard.

Ron's heart ached for her, and he quickly turned her around and pulled her into a tight embrace. She sobbed into his shoulder, and her arms grasped he shirt tightly. Ron held her and rocked her for a long time. He moved his hands up and down her back, in what he hoped was a comforting way. He whispered to her, although he was only vaguely aware of what he was saying, and he kissed the top of her head.

After a time, Hermione's sobbing subsided, and they sat holding each other in silence. When she finally raised her head, it was to look into Ron's eyes. He looked deep into hers, and he was surprised at what he saw. It was rare that she ever revealed so much in her gaze, but right now her eyes lead to the depth of what she was thinking.

Beneath puffy, red-rimmed eyes he saw sadness, confusion, and want. She quickly looked away, and laughed a little as she looked at Ron's pajama shirt. "I've gotten it all wet. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Ron replied, thinking of things much different than his wet shirt. Up close he could see the tiny patch of freckles under her left eye. He didn't recall ever being this close to Hermione before. He never wanted to farther apart than this again.

Slowly he lifted his hand to her face and stroked her cheek. As he touched her, her eyes closed and her mouth fell open. Her actions compelled him forward. He lowered his face to hers and softly brushed his lips against her cheek. He heard her gasp softly, and a shock wave drove through his body.

Her face was smooth and tasted somewhat of salt from the tears. He knew that any moment he could move his face slightly and he would be kissing her. The thought excited him. And it scared him.

He wasn't sure he was daring enough, and instead of rotating his face he moved his forehead on to hers.

"Ron," she whispered, her breath on his face. But he needed a sign. Something telling him that he could continue. Something telling him that she wanted what he did.

She moved her face up a fraction of an inch. It was enough for Ron. He slid his face down, and their mouths connected. Ron had kissed before. But _nothing_ could compare to this. He felt a rush a pleasure. His heart pounded, asking for more. She moved against him, and he felt a jolt in his stomach.

He lifted both of his hands to her face, pulling her harder against him. He needed her, plain and simple. After all the awkwardness and avoidance. After all of the fights. He needed this.

Ron wasn't sure when he concluded that he needed more, but somehow he decided to part his lips slowly. He felt her hesitate under him, and then she too parted her lips. _Success._ He slipped his tongue into her mouth, and he heard her give a whine of want. After hearing this sound, all reason shot out of his head.

It was only many, many minutes later, when Hermione broke apart from Ron, that he realized who he was and what he was doing again. She was breathing fast and hard. She had let him touch her. She had let him kiss her. Then that meant… she wanted this too. The idea thrilled him.

Hermione looked into Ron's eyes and turned crimson. She thrust her face into his neck before he could say anything. They sat together, connected, until Ron knew he had to say something. But what was there to say? There were no words for they way he felt about her.

"Hermione," he breathed out. It was the best start he could think of. She slowly pulled herself up from Ron and looked at him again, still lovely shade of pink. "I…" What were the words?

"What is it?" she asked. She looked expectant. Like there was something she needed to hear him say. He had to tell her the truth.

"I don't really know what to say," he started again. Well the certainly was the truth. "I don't know how to say what I'm feeling. I'm not quite sure there are any words for it. I'd say I fancied you, but that doesn't do any justice to it." Ron was frustrated. This wasn't coming out nearly as sophisticated as he had wanted it to.

"I think I need you," he finally burst out. "More than just as my best friend, I mean. I can't go back to that after tonight. Can you?"

Hermione looked back into his eyes. "No," she said, almost inaudibly.

"Good, because I've been waiting bloody forever for this. I've wanted to for so long."

Hermione shuddered at this words, but then she turned to him looking scandalized. "_You_'_ve_ been waiting forever? I've been waiting since third year!" She turned bright red for the umpteenth time that night. Ron liked the way it looked. She was so cute.

"I was wondering when you were going to become a little less oblivious. I mean, I practically spelled it out for you after the Yule Ball," Hermione continued.

"What are you talking about?" Ron asked incredulously. "You were all over Victor Krum at the Yule Ball."

"I wanted to be with you, but you were too busy fawning over Fleur Delacour to realize it!"

"Oh, shut up, you." Ron was smiling though. He reached up his hand to push her hair behind her ear. He was allowed to do this now. He could touch her whenever he wanted. She placed her hand over his and pulled it into her lap.

"We'd better go back to the dormitories. It's getting very late." She always had to be the rational one.

"I don't want to go yet," Ron complained.

"Nor do I," Hermione replied. "But we'll have tomorrow. And after that. We have time." She smiled.

She was right though. Soon it would be so late that it was early. If he didn't want to have to dodge questions all day, he'd have to get some sleep.

He walked with Hermione to the dormitories and gave her a quick peck on the cheek before turning away and heading to his room. She was right. They had time. They had each other. And Harry had both of them. They would get through this together, just like they always had.

Ron entered his room, and as soon as he laid his head on his pillow, he was asleep.


End file.
